I found it
by htoria
Summary: Post 4x03. Regina finds a way to 'defrost' Marian. Three-parter. Originally posted in 'Castle's in Maine', now a separate entity altogether!
1. Chapter 1

_Post 4x03 three-parter. Originally posted as part of my one-shots collection 'Castle's in Maine', but i've had a few guests review asking to post it separately, so here it is :) _

The cold bites at Regina's skin as she hurries through the forest. Not that she needs to rush, this isn't particularly a matter of life and death, but she's strangely excited. For the first time in weeks, she can feel anxious butterflies flitting in her stomach, and a sense of pride settling on her heart. She's cracked it, she thinks ... _finally_.

Fallen leaves crunch under her boots, crack from their frozen state with each step, and as she takes in the light dusting of ice and snow that scatters the woods, she realises it's probably the first time she's let herself truly take in just what this Snow Queen is capable of.

It's dark; she's unsure of the time, it doesn't occur to her that he may be otherwise engaged, or sleeping. She'll just have to wake him up, then, because she can't not tell him now she's finally figured it out. Well ... most of it. There's still a few ingredients she'll need to gather, not to mention the small, tiny, insignificant detail that this particular spell requires blood ... but she'll cross that bridge when she comes to it. Right now, she needs to find him, needs to tell him the good news.

Tonight, he will be getting his wife back.

It's not lost on Regina that when she lifts the curse on Marian, she'll lose what little contact she's had with her soulmate over the past few weeks, lose the comfort she finds in him being near, the unwavering encouragement and belief he has in her. She's been banging her head against a metaphorical wall since the moment she pulled out this woman's heart, and now she's finally stumbled (albeit, completely accidentally), on this possible cure, there's no way in hell she won't tell him. There's a tiny voice in her mind that's not only excited to tell him for him and Roland, but also for herself too. He's been by her side this whole time, never once questioning her ability to help, even when she doubted herself sometimes (all the time), and now she's found it, buried deep in the pages of an ancient grimoire that belonged to her mother, she's actually pretty damn proud of herself.

_That _is the reason she can't wait to tell him.

When she reaches his camp, it's deserted, bar one very tired looking Friar hunched over a fire, warming his hands on the slowly dying embers. He looks surprised on her approach, but doesn't get up as she walks towards him. (She knows which tent is Robin's, doesn't _need_ to talk to this man per say, but she's no longer quite as impolite as she used to be ... and this *is* his territory, so she won't barge in without so much as a word).

"Is Robin here? I need to talk to him," she says, loud enough for him to hear, but not loud enough to wake the rest of the Merry Men unnecessarily.

Tuck clears him throat, then nods to Robin's tent. "He turned in a while ago, I doubt he's asleep though."

She looks towards the tent, then back over at the Friar, whom gives her a small smile, which she returns before gripping the book closer to her chest and moving over to the deep green tent that currently houses her boyfriend.

_Ex-boyfriend_.

"Robin?" She shouts in a whisper, then slowly inches the opening back.

Robin is lying atop his sleeping bag, watching Roland, who lies with his eyes firmly shut and his mind lost to the dreamworld, curled up in the little ball under several blankets. He motions for her to enter when their eyes meet.

"Everything okay?" He whispers.

Regina crouches down next to him, feels her heart swell when his tired eyes drink her in, and lets the grimoire fall onto her lap. "I found it, Robin," she says with a smile. "I found a cure."

The he sits up, not taking full care not to disturb the child that lies next to him. Roland stirs, and both his father and Regina stop breathing for a second, tear their eyes from each other to stare at him, make sure they haven't woken him. He settles not a moment later. Robin's eyes are full of shock when he meets her gaze again, and his jaw slacks just a little before looking at the book in her cold hands.

"That looks like dark magic, Regina," he says firmly, pointing to the grimoire.

She rolls her eyes. "This is a grimoire, it was my mothers. It's full of dark magic ... but Marian's under a curse, and while this books is full of them, it also has a few handy tips on how to undo them. Should the caster ever feel the need."

"You ... you think you can undo it?"

She nods, breathes out a _yeah_, then says, "I just need a few more ingredients, things I can find in the forest and Gold's shop, and ..."

She stops talking before she gets too excited, before _he_ gets too excited, and drops her gaze from his.

"And?" He urges.

She sighs, then looks back up in the hope that he can see how genuine this all is for her, that she wouldn't even be suggesting it if it were remotely dangerous, hopes that he still trusts her completely as he had promised two weeks prior. "What I'm about to say is absolutely going to alarm you, but I need you to hear me out before you respond, okay?"

He nods.

"Promise?"

He nods again.

Regina takes a deep breath. "I need Roland's blood."

There it is; the alarm, the horror, the look of 'absolutely no way in hell', and for a split second, there's coldness in his eyes throws her, and while he keeps his promise, doesn't utter a sound, she still scrambles to back peddle her words in order for him to understand. "Only a drop, a pin-pricks worth at most. I wouldn't have even bothered telling you what i'd found if it meant Roland coming into harm's way."

Robin's shoulders sag, and he looks between his little boy and herself, clearly torn over what to do. She reaches forward, rests what she hopes is a comforting hand on on his forearm, and softly says, "we don't have to do this if you don't want to. But this is the only way for us to the break the curse."

"Why his blood? Can't you have mine instead?"

She shakes her head sadly, "it will only work with a blood relative."

There is a an internal war going on in his head, Regina can practically hear it. For a moment, she stays quiet, lets him mull over what this means, for him, for them, for Roland, then her heart fills with a strange sense of victory when he says, "only a pin-prick?" His words are cautious, edge slightly on that of a warning, but she thinks maybe she's projecting on Robin how she thinks others would react. He knows her better than that.

"I swear," she promises firmly.

His nod comes a second later. "Okay. What else do you need?"

Ten minutes later, they are walking alone, side by side through the frosty trees under a starry sky, searching in vein for a specific plant that, without which, this spell she's found will not work.

Robin had eased Roland into his arms when they agreed to leave now, wake Marian tonight and not leave her iced over a second longer than she has to be, and asked Tuck to watch over him. The Friar had agreed without question, and bid them goodnight, taking Roland to his own tent.

There had been a moment that had surprised her; when Robin looked somewhat taken aback when she had insisted they do this tonight, and she had to work pretty hard to stamp out the little voice in her mind that whooped in joy over the possible, _he doesn't want to wake her! _It had died a moment later though, and she'd mentally kicked herself for getting even a glimmer of hope from his tone.

Still, he's quiet now, as they trek through the outdoors, leaving the air around them thick with unsaid words and feelings, and suddenly, as excited as she was to have finally found this pesky cure, Regina now feels a heaviness settling on her chest with the notion that in a few short hours, he won't belong to just her anymore.

_He doesn't belong to you now, you ridiculous woman. _

But maybe it won't be like before. Maybe he won't be able to stay away like he thinks he will. Sure, they've spent the past fortnight desperately trying to save his wife, but even so, they've been together, more often than not just the two of them, and while it hasn't been what she wants, hasn't been soft kisses and loving caresses, it's still just been _them_.

She hasn't even lost him again yet, but there's now a grief that's punching a hole in her heart as they walk. His hand is a hairs breadth away from hers, and it's like fate is cruelly laughing in her face once again, because she's pretty sure if their chemistry could be seen, they'd be lighting up like christmas trees right now and they're not even touching.

The hours ware on and the moon moves across the sky. It's full tonight, makes the woods easier to move through, the trees cast shadows on the ground that threaten to trick her mind into thinking they're something they're not. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hopes Ruby still has that cloak of hers. Regina isn't scared of the dark, never has been, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't feel safer with Robin next to her. Thus far, they've been unsuccessful in their attempt to find this plant. _Just keep looking_, she's saying, over and over, _it's red, like poppies but smaller ... the leaves are bigger than the flower. _

She's just on the verge of giving up, of telling him they'll try again when the sun comes up, when his voice makes her jump in the silence of the edge of the woods. "There!"

He's pointing, and she follows his arm to the lake, then further around the park they've wandered to; she can't see anything. "Where?!" She says, a scowl on her face as her eyes squint.

Robin moves to stand right next to her, their bodies graze together with the pressure of a ghosts; it stills makes her shudder. Thank god it's cold or he'd know what kind of affect he has on her.

_Don't kid yourself, Regina, he definitely knows what kind of affect he has on you. _

"Right there, on the edge of the lake."

She spots it then, a small cluster of them that momentarily numbs the grief of losing him and revives this strange sense of pride she's feeling.

The lake has completely frozen over, so she takes a step forward. His arm halts her instantly. "What do you think you're doing?"

She frowns, the gestures to the plant. "Going to get it."

"By walking straight across a lake," he says, voice edging on disbelief.

"By walking straight across a _frozen_ lake. It'll be quicker, stop panicking."

"Why can't we just go around?"

She gapes at him. "For the reason I just said ... why are you arguing with me?"

His eyes roll, and a heavy sigh escapes his mouth. "I'm not ... can't you just 'poof' us there?"

Regina avoids his eyes, bites the inside of her cheek then sighs. "No. I've been too tired the past few days to do magic."

She looks back up, into his eyes when his hand comes to rest on her shoulder. His expression holds nothing but concern, and her earlier irritation is forgotten. "You never told me that."

"Because I knew you'd tell me to stop over-exerting myself. It's just taking a lot out of me ... trying to break this curse every day." He doesn't respond for a second, just looks at her, into her, with a face she recognises as his **_I love you_** face. It's gone a second later, when she presses her foot down onto the solidified water at their feet.

"I think this could be dangerous." He finally says.

It's her turn to roll her eyes now, "it's fine."

A satisfied smile works its way across her face when they step on the ice. It doesn't crack, doesn't so much as make a noise. If they're careful with their steps, they'll have the plant in no time, and once again, the pride she has in herself magnifies.

Maybe this is why people act like heroes, she thinks. It's nothing to do with being selfless, and everything to do with feeling good about yourself. She justifies her latest 'heroic' actions by telling herself that actually, this clearly means heroes are just as self serving as villains. With just a slightly different end goal.

She's lost in thought, half way across the lake when his arm grips hers once more, pulls her to an instant stop.

"What are you-"

"Shh!" He urges, then looks back, horror falling on his face. Regina follows his gaze, but her ears register whats about to happen before her eyes do.

The ice is cracking. It's loud, and ominous, seems to happen in slow motion but neither of them move an inch, and when it finally reaches where they're standing, Regina grips Robin's hand so tightly they might well glue together.

"What do we do?" She asks, looking into his eyes.

He stays silent, looks right back at her with a foreboding expression on his face. "Robin," she repeats, "_what do we do_?!"

He opens his mouth to answer, and then the solid ice she's standing on disappears beneath her feet.


	2. Chapter 2

It's the pain she registers first. The cold pierces her skin like knives and needles, over and over, unrelenting and unstoppable. Her lungs are robbed of what little air she managed to gulp down before her body fell into the ice water. She's vaguely aware that Robins hand is still squeezing her own ... she thinks ... could be wrong because she can't really feel anything other than the pain, the panic.

Regina kicks and trashes against the water, her body desperately trying to fight from sinking further into the icy lagoon and why, oh why did she think crossing this would be a good idea?

Henry flits through her mind, and her legs kick harder. She has to swim, has to ignore the stiffness creeping over her limbs because she has a child. She won't leave him, not like this, not in the midst of a crisis with a witch who seems hell bent on killing Emma. If the blonde goes down, he will be left an orphan, and that is a notion her mind can simply not process.

Roland will be too. Another concept she won't stand for.

Suddenly, her head is above water. Her lungs burn as she gasps for air, gulps over and over for oxygen that doesn't seem to let up the tightness in her chest. Robin is holding her up, holding them both up, taking in breaths as deep as she is, and it's only when their eyes meet does she stop flailing so erratically.

"C-can you g-get us out o-of here?" He stutters, teeth beginning to chatter, lips turning blue.

Regina doubts she's fairing any better, and looks around desperately for solid ground that isn't ice. "I d-don't kn-ow."

Their faces are close, so close she can feel each ragged breath he takes cool her wet skin further, their knees bump together as they fight to stay above the ice water. Cracked ice moves around the waters surface surrounding them, the only white that stands out against the black lake they're submerged in, and as her eyes search for the closest piece of land, her limbs start to stiffen. Robin is still holding her up, the arm that isn't trying to keep his own head above water circled round her waist, and she knows, without doubt in her mind, he will make sure she is safe before he is.

"You n-need to keep us u-u-up. I-I need m-my hands to try a-and g-get us out," she stammers.

He manages a nod, then lets go of her middle as she throws herself closer to him to wrap her arms around his neck. Water sloshes around them as he treads more vigorously; her coat makes her heavy and drags them both a little deeper until Robin's mouth is nearly drowning once more.

She needs to get them out. Right now, or they'll end up ice cubes on the bottom of the lake, and that is just not how she imagined death would finally take her. Death is supposed to come in a magnificent magical battle, she's supposed to go down in a blaze of glory and fully ensure no one _ever_ forgets the name Regina Mills.

That is how she's supposed to die.

How she *wants* to die, is warm in Robin's arms, when they're old and have lived a long, happy, _peaceful _life together. When their children have children, when their bodies have withered but their love never has.

It's hard to concentrate as the cold numbs her body slowly, painfully, and it's all she can do to hold her body against his and throw her arms up in one swift motion.

It doesn't work, and a noise that lands somewhere between a sob and a groan escapes her mouth.

"I c-can't," she starts, but can't bring herself to finish the sentence. The pain, both physical and emotional is too much.

Robin kicks a little harder, brings his own head up again to stop himself from swallowing ice cold water instead of air when he opens his mouth. "You c-can. I b-believe in you."

His words break her heart all over again. She turns her head and looks into his eyes; the eyes that have seen straight through her from the moment they met. A deep breath shudders through her body, and the silence of the park presses in on her ears as her mind swings back round again, to Marian, to Roland, to Henry, to him ... to _them_.

The smoke engulfs them before she even moves her hands.

Regina's lungs rasp as she coughs up the water from her chest and takes in sharp breaths that burn her lungs. The ground is cold under her palms as she crawls up the bank she's managed to send them to. Robin is behind her, pushing her body up and away from the water, retching and gulping for air just as much as she is. Sodden, heavy clothes stick to her skin, make the cold almost unbearable, and she thought when she got them out it would be better, would be easier to breathe and focus.

It's not.

"You did it," he huffs out, a small, proud smile twitching at his lips.

All she can do is nod back; there was a reason she didn't use magic to get the damn plant in the first place ... she wasn't strong enough. And while she may well have proven herself wrong, it doesn't mean it hasn't knocked the stuffing out of her. She's exhausted, she's dithering, she's just ruined her most favourite boots by being submerged in dirty _pond_ water, and now quite frankly, she is in a _mood_.

Robin stands, then drops his arm to pull her to her feet, and it reminds her of a different time, a different place. One where she was decked out in full regalia and he had a quiver slung across his shoulder, only this time, she will gladly accept the hand he's offering.

"We need to get back to the camp; warm up before we freeze to death," he says, voice stronger now than it had been moments ago when half lost to the icy depths of the lake.

She doesn't argue.

They're back at his camp before she really registers they've even moved. Walking isn't what she's been focussing on; it's the shivers, her wet hair and the wind that makes her ears hurt and her skin bite. He pulls her forward into his tent, now unoccupied by the five year old currently snoozing with Tuck.

Regina wraps her arms around her body and closes her eyes, wishing for the cold and the wetness to stop, willing her magic to hurry up and revive so she can dry them both with the click of her fingers. She's pulled from her concentration though, a moment later when he pulls her arms down and moves to push her coat from her body. When her eyes open, she's met with the sight of his bare chest.

"What are you d-doing?" She says, teeth chattering.

"We need to get warm ... that's not going to happen if we stay in these clothes."

Oh.

He's bare to the waist, and while it's a wholly inappropriate moment, her eyes still appreciate his physique; the tone of his muscles, the colour of his skin. Any other circumstance would have her audibly gulping.

Her coat's on the floor now, his fingers working their way down her blouse, slower than they have in the past, and she guesses they're seizing up from the cold. It's only when he reaches the button just by her navel does she huff out a chuckle (even though really, there's nothing funny about any of this).

"You know, last time you undressed me, we w-were in front of a fire. Just for future reference, I pr-prefer that method of seduction to this one."

A quick grin springs onto his face, deepening those dimples, and then he looks at her with teasing eyes. "Oh, I don't know ... the cold seems to have its ... _perks_, too."

There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as they glide down from her face. The last button of her shirt pops open with ease, and when he slides the garment off her shoulders, Regina follows his gaze, suddenly sees the reason for his words.

Her nipples are standing on end, completely visible through the thin t-shirt bra she'd picked out that morning. She blushes, throws her arms in front of her chest to cover herself as he chuckles again and wraps his arms around her body in a way that completely envelopes her.

She should feel alarmed, should be telling him to stop, that they shouldn't be doing this. But his skin is warm against her own, and she knows despite the flirting words they've carelessly thrown back and forth, this isn't sexual. It's necessary. Regina lets her head rest against his naked chest, is soothed into a lull by the beat-beat-beat of his heart, and sighs contently.

It may not be sexual ... but that doesn't mean it isn't _wonderful_.

A certain amount of time passes; one minute, one hour, she isn't sure. It's only when she hears him take in a long, slow breath does she pull back and look at his face. He looks tired, she notes, and his hair is still wet, but there's a warmth in his eyes that tells her he is exactly where he wants to be, doing exactly what he wants to be doing. It's the first time since Marian's return she can't see conflict in his eyes, can't see her own pain reflected in his expression, but instead a content sort of acceptance.

It fills her heart with hope, and before she can stop it, a loving smile spreads across her face that he matches tenfold.

"Are you alright?" He asks quietly, bringing one hand up to brush away the wet strands of hair that have stuck to the side of her face when pillowed against his body. She nods into his touch, feels her body shiver as his thumb strokes her cheekbone so softly she thinks she may have imagined it.

"I'm sorry," she says, an overwhelming rush of emotion hits her heart, and she presses her lips together as her eyes shine with tears. "I shouldn't have been so reckless, I-"

"Stop it, Regina. There's no point in beating yourself up, we're fine." His words hold a firmness she hasn't heard from him since their days in the enchanted forest, and while she knows full well he isn't going to hear anymore of her apologies, she tries them anyway.

"We could have died, Robin-"

"But we didn't."

He won't let her say another word.

She dries them not long after; her magic finally having gained enough strength to cast the small spell that warms her skin, makes her toes wiggle in her now dry socks. Her boots are still ruined, the leather scuffed, the colour faded, and her lips purse with ire at the site of them.

Why does she always destroy perfectly good shoes running around_ forests_?

They dress in silence, turn back to back, trying with all their mite now that moment has gone not to brush against each other in the small confines of his tent. He catches the yawn though, the deep, wide reflex that she's sure makes her face scrunch up hideously.

"You must be exhausted," he says, stating the obvious.

She smiles coyly, giving her shoulders a small shrug. "Nothing a few hours rest won't solve."

"Why don't you stay here tonight? You're too tired to walk back home, or use magic to get there."

She bites the inside of her cheek, telling herself over and over he's only offering because it's polite, not because he wants her to stay, (she knows deep down he probably does want her to stay, but neither will lend voice to the feelings they're both having for fear of what _that_ would mean). She brushes her now-dry hair back, looks down at the mounds of blankets carpeting the floor of his tent, then gives a small nod.

They fall asleep with a foot between them, back to back, and for the small time she lies there awake, she tries desperately to ignore the longing sitting on her chest.

She wakes hours later in his arms; feels warm and completely at peace as sunlight creeps through the crack of the tent opening, lies there for a moment in her sleepy haze not registering anything but the fact that her body is pressed to his, that even in sleep his arm holds the back of her head in place against his chest.

In an instant, that's gone, and an awkward alarm creeps through her veins as she preys to every god imaginable that when she detangles her limbs from his, he won't wake. Of course while comatose their bodies would still find away to stick together like magnets. Fucking soulmates, she thinks.

It doesn't work, and when she's half sitting up, half lying on top of him, he stirs, frowns at her unusual position as her face scrunches while she mentally curses herself.

"Good morning," he says, an amused, arrogant smile playing on his lips, and she sighs.

"Morning," she replies, getting up to her feet. A small groan escapes her throat as she straightens, shifts her back from side to side, wincing when it cracks. A scowl falls on her face. "How the hell do you sleep on the ground every night?"

"You get used to it," he shrugs.

They exit the tent together, making small talk, both avoiding any conversation that involves mentioning the fact they woke locked in a tight embrace that is _absolutely_ inappropriate for ex-lovers.

He tells her he's going to go and retrieve the plant while she goes home to change, and he will meet her at Granny's with Roland in a couple of hours.

They have a moment, a pause where neither speaks or moves, just staring into each others eyes. She knows now this will probably be the last time they're alone for ... god knows how long, that as soon as they wake Marian up, all this will stop and her heart weighs down even more. She wants to say something, wants to do something ... touch him, kiss him, anything to let up the feeling that someone is standing on her chest.

But she can't, and it hurts. He must see it in her eyes, because after a brief second, he takes her hand in his own and brings it up to his mouth, presses his lips against her knuckles in a way that makes her nerves light up.

"I'll see you later?"

She nods, takes her hand back, then disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.


	3. Chapter 3

_Last in the 'I found it' three-parter. Enjoy! _

Regina Mills is used to the stares.

She's used to the whispers and awkward atmosphere that often follows her entrance to somewhere, used to holding her head a little higher and pointedly ignoring said stares. Lately though, they've gotten less. The stares she's been on the end of in recent months have been ones of disbelief, or awe, whispers of _I can't believe she helped_, and while she still ignores them, still pretends she's unaware, she would be lying if she said it wasn't nice being talked about for good reasons for a change.

Today though, as she enters Granny's, the accusation is back in the eyes of every diner. It throws her, and she has to cast her mind back in an attempt to figure out what she's done in the two days since she was last here, that would make her deserve the disapproving looks she's currently on the end of. Nothing, as far as she's concerned.

Still, they stare, and out of habit, her chin raises and her lips purse as she makes her way to her usual stool propped up against the counter. The armor she's found no use for as of late hardening on instinct, and she barks her regular coffee order at the wolf behind the bar. Ruby nods, moves to comply after a brief once over with suspicious eyes. It makes Regina feel uneasy.

She spends the short time she'll be there waiting, drinking her coffee and trying to figure out why on earth these people's attitudes towards her have swung as drastically as a pendulum.

Mary Margaret is the person who enlightens her.

The dark haired beauty stands just behind Regina, makes the former Queen turn in her seat wearing an expression of _what do you want? _The Princess sighs, disappointment and disapproval radiating from her pores so obviously, Regina is surprised she can't physically see it.

"Please tell me it isn't true. What they're saying about you," she says, clutching her son to her chest, rocking him back and forth to keep his cries at bay.

Regina cocks an eyebrow, scans the room and finds the diner now all looking their way, and once again, confusion seeps through her veins. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she answers.

"Regina, there's no point in lying to me. You were seen."

The frown she's now wearing deepens, and she leans back, almost affronted she's being accused of something that, as far as she's concerned, she's not done. "Seen doing what? What the hell are you on about?" She snaps, because she's exhausted, because as soon as Robin gets here she'll lose him all over again, because her search for Henry's books author has hit every dead end possible, and even though she really shouldn't care, she finds she it actually does bother her that the Snow Queen wants Emma dead. She is not in the mood this snippy Princess, or her false assumptions.

"I know what happened last night, Regina. Quit pretending. I am so disappointed in you, I really thought you'd changed."

Regina gapes at her; she's not usually taken back by anything, but this has surprised her. Last night she spent the hours from dinner to ten with Marian, then went to her vault, then to the camp, then nearly drowned. Last night she'd made some pretty impressive steps towards _saving_ Marian's life, and once again, her confusion deepens. Why the hell would that disappoint Snow?

"Okay, you're going to have to help me out here, Mary Margaret, I have no idea what I'm supposed to have done." Her words bite, and she can feel her temper rising. She can't lose her rag, not in public, or she really will be on the end of all those stares again. Mary Margaret looks as though she's about to retaliate when the bell to Granny's door jingles, fills the silence now sitting on the diner, and both Queen and Princess turn their attention.

Robin tells Roland to go and sit in a booth, that he'll be over in a minute, then moves to join Regina and Snow at the counter. He looks stressed, nothing like the man she left a few short hours before, and for a second, she thinks there was another problem retrieving the plant she needs to cast the reverse spell.

"Regina-"

"I really don't think you should be here right now, Robin." Snow says, then adds "you know, I can expect this of her, but I truly thought you were better than this."

Robin's reply sounds verging on desperate. "This isn't what you think, Mary Margaret, not at all-"

Regina scowls at them. Does everyone in this damn diner know something she doesn't? "Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?!"

He sighs heavily, then looks into her eyes, back over to his son to make sure Roland is happily oblivious to their conversation. "Will Scarlet saw you coming out of my tent this morning."

Oh.

_Oh_.

Realisation washes over Regina as she closes her eyes and lets out a sigh. Well the stares make sense now, she thinks. If that scoundrel has made his way through town shouting Robin Hood is having an affair with the Evil Queen whilst poor Marian is lost to a freezing curse, then she never had a hope in hells chance of getting through breakfast without hassle.

"Look, I don't know what's going on here," Mary Margaret starts, "but if you two really can't stay away from each other then please, out of respect, at least wait until we've figured out how to save Marian. She deserves better than this."

"We don't need to wait for anything," Regina snaps, "because it isn't what you think."

"Oh, so you didn't spend the night in his tent then?"

"Nothing happened," Robin says firmly. Regina rolls her eyes, slides off the stool and moves into Snow's personal space. She has the baby, so she can't make the scene she wants to make, but that doesn't mean Regina won't stand up for her and Robin when they've done nothing to deserve such accusations. She has to hand it to the Princess, even with the newborn, Regina getting in her face doesn't make her flinch.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I figured out how to save Marian last night, and went straight to tell Robin. I don't know what that common pilferer thinks he saw, but I can assure you it wasn't _that_." She doesn't say anymore, can't be bothered to get another scolding from her step-daughter, this time for being so reckless with walking over the frozen lake.

Mary Margaret looks torn, like she wants to carry on arguing - she's clearly skeptical about their protests - but the fact Regina has mentioned a way to save Marian has peeked her interest. "You really think you can save her?" She asks, giving up her disapproval.

Regina gives her a curt nod, "that depends," then turns to look at Robin, asks, "did you manage to get the plant?"

He stuffs his hand in his pocket, pulls out a small cluster of the weeds they fought so hard to get to last night, then gives her a small smile. Regina looks back over to Roland, happily munching away on some pancakes Granny has set in front of him, then takes a deep breath. "Then yes. I can save her."

For a beat, no one says anything. Regina holds his gaze, notices his expression is as grim as hers despite the happy situation this should be. "Well ... there's no time to lose then," he says eventually, and his words make her eyes leave his face. She looks back at the pixie haired brunette to her right (the woman has now stopped rocking her child, stands frozen in place with an uncomfortable look on her face, and good, Regina thinks. She's glad Mary Margaret feels awkward, it will teach her to go around poking her nose in other people's business).

They say very little as they make her way to her - Snow's - office, where they've been keeping Marian's body. She sets Roland up at the table with a large wad of paper and an assortment of crayons, tells him to draw her a picture - anything he wants - and then asks if he thinks he's up to a mission when she's ready for him.

"What kind of mission?" He asks, a curious little frown on his face.

Regina crouches down until he's above her eye line. "I'm going to try and save your mommy ... but I can't do it without your help. What do you say, do you think you can help me?"

He nods firmly. "Like when we were in your castle."

"Exactly like when we were in my castle," she smiles, thinks back to the times she gave in to his pestering and played with him. She would cater to his imagination for hours before realising she was actually enjoying herself too. In some ways, he reminded her of Henry when he was little, those ways had hurt her heart and warmed her soul simultaneously, but the more time she spent with Roland during those days in the Enchanted Forest, the more she began to see he was an entirely different personality altogether.

She leaves him to his colouring before moving to join Robin by the couch. Memories of their morning spent wrapped in each others arms in front of this couch still plague her mind, still make her skin shiver and her knees weak, but she can't think of that right now, because aside from the fact it's totally inappropriate with his son and cursed wife in the room, it physically hurts her heart.

She spends a considerable amount of time prepping her spell, grinding ingredients, whispering incantations, stirring the mixture she's created in the battered old cauldron she'd acquired from her vault earlier that day (before she'd been accused of being a home wrecker). She's is just about ready for Roland when Robin's hand suddenly holds the top of her arm.

She looks down at his fingers; his grip isn't firm, not by any means, but she still feels the hold he like it's an anchor to keep her head from spinning with all the magic that she's performed as of late.

"Thank you," he says. It's quiet, drowning in an array of emotions that make her heart stop and speed up at the same time. There are tears in her eyes, not thick enough to blur her vision, but enough for her to feel her eyelashes moisten.

She shakes her head, swallows thickly, and says, "I'm happy to do it."

It's not a lie. Well ... not a _total_ lie.

Regina takes in a deep breath, asks Roland to please come here, smiles when he obliges without hesitation. "You ready, buddy?"

"What do I have to do?" He asks, looking up at Robin, who reaches down and lifts him to sit on his hip.

"Regina needs something from you in order to wake you mother up, Roland,"

She stays silent while he explains, pulls out the long, thin needle she has already sterilised and then watches as Roland listens to Robin's words. She needs just a little bit of your blood, he tells him honestly, so we have to give you a small scratch on your finger.

"Will it hurt, papa?" Is his first question.

"No," she jumps in, takes the reigns from Robin and holds the little boy's attention. "It will just feel a little bit sharp. I think you're more than brave enough to take that, don't you?"

He ponders her words, then nods once. "Will I need stitches afterwards?" He asks, very seriously, and Regina throws an amused, albeit surprised, look up towards Robin, who is biting back a grin.

"Roland, how on earth did you learn what stitches are?" She asks.

"The doctors sewed up Little John's shoulder when he stopped being a monkey. He showed it me. He says they're called butterflies, but I don't want butterflies because that's for girls." He explains, missing the humour in his words.

Regina lets a small smile play on her lips, avoids Robin's eyes for fear she'll start to laugh, then tells him, "well that's a very good question, but no, you won't need stitches. All we'll have to do it kiss it better."

"Can I have some ice cream after I help mommy, Regina?"

That does make her laugh. "Of course you can."

He offers her his hand, which she takes gently in her own, turns it over so his palm faces the ceiling then pulls the skin on the tip of his index finger tightly. She does it quickly, pushes the metal into his skin then pulls it away so fast she's almost unsure she's done it. He doesn't even flinch, and it makes the 'mother' in her nearly burst with pride, (she bats that down quickly - reminds herself she isn't allowed to mother this little boy like she once used to).

"Well done, my boy. You were very brave," Robin tells him, pressing a kiss to his temple as Regina squeezes a small bubble of blood into the cauldron, then moves to wrap a bandaid around the tiny wound. Roland wiggles his finger, looks at his hand then back up at Regina.

"Is it time for my ice cream now?" Robin sets him on the floor, tells Regina he'll be right back, he's going to call Little John and have him come and collect Roland.

When he's left, Regina slowly lowers herself onto the coffee table in front of the couch. She's more or less Roland's height now, and watches him fondly as he twists his 'injured' finger around, admiring the bright blue material now wrapped around it.

"Regina, why don't you play with me anymore?" He asks, out of the blue, and for a moment, it throws her.

"Oh ... well .. you have your mother back to play with you now," she says, then sees a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. "But I do miss playing with you."

"Me too. Mommy doesn't play like you do, she didn't know how to play the dragon game," he tells her in a very matter-of-fact manner.

"She doesn't, huh? Well, maybe we can teach it to her," she offers, tries not to think back to the hours of playtime they enjoyed together running through her castle fighting an imaginary fire-breathing creature that - Roland assured her - would bite off her feet if she let it catch her. "We could take your mommy to the castle in the woods, can you remember the one I showed you?"

"Henry's castle?" He asks, scrunching his face, and she nods. "Okay! We can show her how to hide from the dragon, then."

Robin interrupts them, closely followed by John, who tries to usher Roland away with a promise of all the ice cream he can eat, but only if he tells the Merry Man all about his war wound, and how he's single handedly saved his mother's life. Roland giggles, goes to join John by the door before stopping in his tracks half way there. He turns, quickly hurries back to Regina and wraps his arms around her neck.

The gesture almost floors her. Tears fill her eyes, a painful lump rises in her throat, and it's all she can do to embrace his little body closer to her own.

"You didn't kiss my finger better," he whispers, his face buried in her hair, and she pulls back slowly, lifts up his hand and touches the bandaid with her lips. "Go and enjoy your ice cream, little one," she says, manages to disguise the emotion in her voice, and watches as he skips happily out of the room with John in toe.

"Are you ready?" Regina asks Robin when they're finally alone. She's standing over Marian's body now, the pot siting beside them simmering with magic, purple smoke billowing out over its edges.

He nods, then breathes out a _wait_, when she moves her palms over the cauldron in order to begin casting her spell. Her fingers spring back, nails digging in her palms as he reaches forward to grip her wrists and turns her to face him.

They're close, too close, she can feel his breath on her face, feel her skin pucker as his fingers tease their way up her arms and lace together with her own. Her eyes flutter shut, if only to stop the ache in her heart she gets whenever he looks at her the way he is right now. One hand leaves her own, and the next thing she feels is his palm resting against her cheek, hair being brushed away, and if he kisses her she might just fall apart.

She has never wanted him to kiss her more than she does right now.

She drops her head, because he can't kiss her, shouldn't kiss her, and a single tear slips down her skin when his lips meet her forehead. The gesture is loving, caring, and lasts far longer than it should, but it seems to be the only way for him to express how he's feeling without completely crossing a line.

She's grateful when he doesn't move for her lips.

She also hates him for not trying.

She clears her throat, and it seems to snap him out of whatever it is he's feeling right now, because he steps back, leaves the air around her body considerably colder than it was a second ago, then drops his gaze to Marian. His small nod is all she needs to begin casting the reversal spell.

It begins working, and as the woman before her starts to unthaw, Regina feels relief flood her veins. The ice melts quickly, the colour returns to her lips and her skin and her hair, her chest begins to rise and fall slowly, and as an ora of a soft magical glow surrounds Marian, her eyes flicker open.

"Marian?" Robin asks, kneeling by her side.

"Robin?" Comes her voice, and her gaze sweeps from her husbands up to Regina's.

"You were cursed, by the Snow Queen. How do you feel?" Regina asks, her usual surly tone working its way back to her voice.

"I'm ... I'm okay," she says, frowning, like she's confused. Marian moves her hand, presses it flush against her chest then glares up at Regina. "Where-"

"It's right here," Regina says, beats her to the point before she can start yelling at her for taking out her heart. "I had to take it out. If the Snow Queen's curse had touched it, you'd have died."

She moves to the office desk, picks up the box that houses Marian's heart, then walks back over to the couch. Marian sits up, helped by Robin's strong arms, then looks up cautiously to Regina, who stands a little awkwardly for a moment, then places the box down on the coffee table.

"I'll let you put that back," she says to Robin, who nods with a grateful smile.

As she goes to leave the office, she passes the table, chances a glance down at Roland's colouring, and feels her heart squeeze itself at the image that meets her.

It's messy, an array of colours that don't match and but hold an endearing nature the way any child's drawing does. It's of four stick people, each labeled with 'mama', 'papa', 'me' and 'Regina'. Tears stream down her cheeks before she can stop them - he's remembered how to spell her name, and she's reminded once more of the time she spent with Roland during their forgotten year, not just of play time, but of learning too, of a time she would sit with him in the library of the east wing and verse him on reading and writing. He picked it up quickly, quicker then Henry had at that age, and the fact he's remembered correctly makes her chest ache in a way it hasn't in years. Now she doesn't feel like she's just losing Robin, now she feels like she's losing her family.

The need to run takes over, and as she leaves, she can just hear Marian ask, "how do you know how to put a heart back?"

The hurt magnifies tenfold, the memories that question brings have her gasping for air, and when she's out of sight, she throws up her hands, and sends herself home in a cloud of purple smoke.

It's later, much later, when her front door knocks, pulls her from the sorrowful, sour mood she's found herself in since leaving her old office. She's ordered Henry to stay with Emma tonight, doesn't need him around her when she's feeling so shitty. He's the only person she'd answer to, and since he knows to stay away, she stays rooted to the couch and lets the knocks die down. Whoever it is gives up a moment later, and the silence of her mansion presses in around her once again.

She can feel the heat of the fire against her skin as she swirls her - nearly empty - glass of whiskey round, the ice clinking softly against the glass. It's not dulling her mood, but it is taking the edge off ... making her tired too, and hopefully with this and all the magic she's done today, she'll fall asleep without much effort tonight.

When her front door opens, she thinks it's Mary Margaret, come to yell at her more, or shove some pep talk down her throat that will no doubt make Regina seethe with ire. She stands with the notion of meeting her half way and frog marching her straight back out the house, but as she reaches the hall, it isn't her step-daughter that meets her gaze.

He looks slightly flustered, like maybe he's run here, and for a split second, she thinks maybe something has gone wrong with the reversal curse.

'R-Robin?" She asks, scolds herself for letting her voice catch and showing him the vulnerable side she's promised to hide from now on.

He takes two strides, full of purpose, to reach her, moves to hold her either side of her head, angles her face upwards, and pushes his lips over hers in a kiss that could bruise. A groan escapes her throat as she kisses him back hungrily, and the one thousand questions that were screaming in her head a second ago fall away. All she's left with is white noise and a familiar heat that spreads from her stomach, crawls its way across every inch of her skin.

Their kiss is heated from the second it starts, and he walks her backwards until she hits the wall with a thud. She tugs at his hair, rakes her nails over his scalp and joins him in a moan that vibrates from the base of her throat when she pulls at his bottom lip with her teeth, before soothing it with the run of her tongue.

Her chest is heaving against his when they stop, only for air, she wouldn't have even thought about halting that without the need for oxygen, and as she strokes the stubble that lines his jaw, she breathes, "what ... what?"

She doesn't know what she's asking, but he seems to.

"She could hear under the ice," he says, and Regina frowns. "Marian ... she said she heard everything. She knows I'm in love with you."

"Oh. What does ... why are you kissing me, Robin?" She asks, because she daren't hope he's about to answer with the words she's been longing to hear since his wife returned.

"I couldn't do it, I don't want to be with Marian after everything that's happened ... I'm sorry it's taken me this long to admit that to myself," he talks while their foreheads are touching, his voice getting emotional, and she suddenly realises both of them are tearful. "I love you," he says again, and it's like a symphony to her ears. His lips catch her own quickly. "I love you," he says it again, kisses her once more, and it's suddenly like it's all he can say. "I love you," again, and she's laughing now, smiling into each kiss as his arms wrap around her waist and lift her off her feet.

"I love you," she whispers back.

She's not sure what happened when she left the office, she'll find that out later. Right now, all she cares about is that she's in his arms, kissing his lips, breathing him in and feeling their hearts beat in sync.

All she cares about right now is that, finally, she's home.


End file.
